It looks like we missed the parade. We do get a nice view of the state championship trophy, which is easily the weirdest looking thing we’ve seen here in a while. The state chooses to remain anonymous and has also declined to personalize the trophy in any way. At least they put the year on it.
What does this thing remind you of?
Also, I would be remiss if I didn’t throw in another plug for the Commemorative T-Shirt available now here. Thank you to G-Man for setting that up.
December 2, 2014
Panel One: Nice competition here between Gil and Kaz as to who can make the more meaningless statement. My vote goes to Gil for the ‘pump them up, settle them down’ line as I have no idea how (or even why) that would work.
Panel Two: Wait, hasn’t Milford won the championship before? Did we have a reboot when the creators changed? That could play holy hell with the xls.
Panel Three: There’s been a fair amount of speculation that Milford is in Ohio, but I don’t think that’s the Horseshoe. For that matter, though, I’m not able to tell if that’s supposed to be Spartan Stadium either. Regardless, it is reassuring to know that Gil’s pep talk is a rambling monologue replete with a variation on the old ‘the field is the same as the one we used to play on’ chestnut.
November 11, 2014
Guys, I think Whigrub is employing some strategery here as there is simply too much weirdness going on in today’s strip for me to focus on any single aspect of it properly. That said, here goes:
Panel one: So, Jarrod isn’t burning True, but is instead whining about getting more playing time. Which, doesn’t make any sense? Isn’t Jarrod now playing wide receiver in addition to being the backup QB? Whatever, it is interesting that Gil has an XKCD cast poster framed on his office wall.
Panel two: OK, this came up in comments but seriously, what the heck do these guys teach? Perhaps, Kaz’s scribblings on the whiteboard can illuminate this for us. Here are my best guesses:
Hmmm, nope. I am afraid I can’t crack The Kazinski Code here no matter how I try to parse that daunting cryptological conundrum up there on the board.
Panel three? Wait. What? OK. I’m done here.
“It’s my ankle coach – but it’ll be okay if you need me.”
“Huh? Okay? Wha? Let’s just get moving before that truck flattens us like pancakes!”
“Truck? I thought the Goshen players had summoned their craft to take them back to Tralfamadore.”
“Tralfamadore? I thought the Goshen home world was Melmac? We don’t have time for this nonsense. Let’s get over to the bench so we can move this plot, in which Goshen and their lousy football team is merely a footnote, forward. Over to you Gil.”
“Plot? Over to you, Gil?? Coach, are we real?”
“There’s no time for this now. Limp this way.”
“Jarrod – you’re in for True!”
“For True? For real? seewhatIdidthere?”
“Shut yer yap, Prom Prince and do what you’ve been dreaming of since the second grade.”
“Okay coach, but who else is going to be in my internationally acclaimed boy band, that guy back there in the towel? He doesn’t have any moves!”
“Focus Jarrod. Remember that whole quarterbacking thing you’ve been griping about all season?”
“Oh yeah! Am I going in? For True?”
“Geez! Hey Coach Shaw, do we have any smelling salts?”
And now, football! Look at that handoff!
Speaking of handoffs, if anybody watched the Florida/Georgia game on Saturday, boy did you see a lot of handoffs. It was stunning how Georgia was unable to stop Florida’s running game, even if it was pretty much the same plays being run over and over again with only six passing plays mixed in throughout the whole game. I hope Emmitt Smith was watching that game somewhere. I’m sure Fred Taylor was.
This has been a non-solicited, Gator football update by a (mostly) indifferent Gator football fan. Thanks for tuning in.
November 1, 2014
That smoke you see in front of Marty’s crate? It’s from
a) Milford’s season going down in flames
b) True’s scholarships going up in smoke
c) The meth True’s been smoking (oh, wait, not that kind of tweaking)
d) Jarrod’s ears, as he contemplates the trifecta of winning Junior Attendant, catching a TD pass, and leading the team onward to victory on Homecoming
e) Marty’s mom’s ears, as she hears her son’s poor grammar from the kitchen above
f) All of the above
I want to run with this like a pair of scissors but I’m content to let y’all do that today. I have plans to celebrate The World’s Largest Outdoor Cocktail Party from afar.
October 29, 2014
Oh, the many faces of Gil we’ve been treated to lately. Dude is an emotive whirlwind.
In panel one, we get sassy Gil where he shares his suspicions that Marty doesn’t actually have a job. We’re with ya on that one, Gil.
Panel two brings us coy Gil. Ah, poor Marty, Gil will never let you know what is really going on in his heart. No wonder you have such complicated issues with both Gil and the wider world. Hey, at the end there, is Kaz agreeing with Gil or is he including himself as one of the reasons the team is so great?
And that’s all of the Gil we get for today because in panel three we get… Nightmare fuel. Here’s a tip: don’t read the last panel right before going to be lest you be haunted by this ghoulish triad of faceless cheerleaders. What is even going on at the end of the central figure’s right arm I can’t bare to contemplate further although you all are welcome to speculate in the comments!
October 14, 2014
Well, I mentioned in comments that I would actually have a decent amount of time today to write a post. Fortunately for me, I didn’t promise that the additional time would lead to a high quality post…
In panel one, we see Kaz (and Gil) illuminated while the disembodied legs in the foreground remain shrouded in darkness. This is a very interesting tableau: I’m not sure what the thought process was that led to framing the coaches like this, but it does… something. Yep, it sure does something.
It seems to me, based on the change in background, that we skipped ahead about five minutes or so from the beginning of Gil’s rendition of that beloved chestnut about the middle of the road. Fortunately, we come in right as he drops the kicker: Yellow Stripes and Dead Armadillos. Yessir, I do believe Gil might have taken that line directly from the b-side of Slim Chance and the Long Shots‘ first single.
Panel three is a jaw dropper in its own right: The insight and analysis on display here is so deep you couldn’t drown a flea in it. I do like how Coach Shaw – Hey, there guy! We haven’t seen you in a while – is just staring at Steve, probably giving him the stinkeye as his indignation at being leapfrogged by this one-armed moron in the Milford athletic department has him seriously questioning his life choices.
Given the copious amount of time to compose this post that I have, I would be remiss not to include a youtube clip as a soundtrack to listen to while reading this post. One of my earlier drafts of this post was going to include a joke based on p2 about not accepting offers to go to lunch with Gil because of how said lunch would include roadkill armadillo. Well, I couldn’t quite make that one match the unparalleled hilarity of the rest of my commentary but I am glad to see whoever wrote this song went to the same place.
It’s Monday morning at Milford High. Gil is busy doing something on his computer. It’s hard to tell what. My guess is that he’s scanning the notes scribbled on the stack of scrap paper and cocktail napkins using some freeware document filing software. He will not make much progress today as the software is Russian and he Gil doesn’t actually have a scanner, so he will soon revert back to taping his notes directly to the monitor.
In the meantime, the quarterback competition is heating up with a new voice heard from, Jarrod’s mom. Gil does his best Bob Newhart phone call. Yes, Mrs. Hale. No, don’t be silly, Mrs. Hale, I couldn’t possibly fit my head up there, Mrs. Hale, and besides how would I breathe?
Meanwhile, Kaz is roaming the halls, looking for a quick expository conversation before he goes back to….what does he do around the school all day? Is he more than a black t-shirt, sideburns, earrings and a cup of coffee?
So loudmouth Art Standish is just emailing his gripes now? He’s got to be the most toothless blowhard this strip has ever seen. If you can’t do your aggressive browbeating in meatspace, then you hardly even qualify as a blowhard.